So Little Left to Give
by Mia-Zeklos
Summary: Or, four times Ianto was on the brink of leaving Torchwood and one time he did it.
1. Chapter One

**_Author's Notes:_ Exactly what it says on the tin. This is going to have five chapters – apparently – and I can promise you an end that will still stick to the pairing and be pleasurable to the reader's eye. The text in the beginning is from The Raven by Edgar Allan Poe.**

**It's going to include more characters as more chapters are written but, since that's the main pairing, that's how I'm going to leave it.**

**I hope you like it and, as always, feedback is greatly appreciated.**

_Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken__  
><em>_Leave my loneliness unbroken__, __ quit the bust above my door__  
><em>_Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door__  
><em>_Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'_

Jack remembered the birds they'd had back on his home planet. They'd called them Khtaii and they had been the most beautiful creatures he had ever seen. His mother had always warned him not to touch them, but he'd been unable to keep his eyes off them.

So one day, when he'd been alone outside, Jack had seen one of them on the beach, just twenty feet away from him. It had been looking at him with one of its big blue eyes, its red beak longer than his forearm and its bright yellow feathers ruffled by the wind just slightly, without marring its perfection. Jack had approached it and tentatively outstretched an arm towards the bird, and it hadn't moved, so his courage had grown. He'd started stroking the Khtaii's head and the bird's eyes had closed blissfully. Jack had smiled and, bolder than before, had inched closer as he'd kept petting it.

Which, much to his misfortune, had made it spin around and bite him to the bone.

His mother had told him, when he'd ran to her crying with blood dripping down his hand, that the Khtaii fed on meat – any meat – and that their bright colours were meant to be a warning. A warning for the other creatures out there that there was danger coming, and Jack had been unable not to admire the sheer _cleverness_ of it – not because of the warning but because it worked in a completely different way than the one it was supposed to, and he felt as if the birds knew it. Because really, warning or not, who could resist such beauty?

He remembered it now as he watched Ianto pour him tea in cups made of porcelain finer than anything he'd ever seen and he realised that the bird analogy was sadly accurate as the man sat opposite of him, wide blue eyes inquisitive as always, lips red as his blood and skin paler than the moon. He looked like a creature from another world and the Captain couldn't look away, no matter how much he tried to force himself into it.

Ianto's flat was, Jack had noticed since the first time he'd came here, overtaken by eccentric and yet tasteful luxury. Of course, by the way he dressed and acted Jack had supposed that he was a bit of a sucker for Victorian times, and everything around them only confirmed it. Which also meant that he was far richer than the Captain had realised.

"So –" He coughed, desperately trying to find a topic for conversation. "Was this place given to you by your father?"

They were four weeks into Ianto's suspension and he was supposed to come back to work tomorrow. Emphasis on 'supposed'. The Captain wasn't really sure of anything anymore.

He'd gone through the records of Ianto's sister, though, and he knew that she wasn't nearly as well off as he apparently was, so curiosity got the better of him.

Ianto laughed mirthlessly. "All my father had to give was a house in the estates and Rhiannon lives there – he bloody hated me. This," he gestured around himself, "all comes from my mother. Her family was quite wealthy and she willed it all to me to have as soon as I turn eighteen."

As far as Jack knew, Ianto's mother had died when he'd been twelve. He'd seen her in a photo, of course, and he could understand the strange look the young man had suddenly adopted. She'd been a beautiful woman and – as far as he could tell from her biography – a kind one as well. He hadn't researched any further, but he couldn't see why Ianto would be lying – even if he'd got the money illegally from somewhere else, it wasn't like anyone in Torchwood would care too much about it.

And plus, the luxury seemed to be something natural for his youngest employee. Ianto was sitting in the chair opposite from him, eyes half-lidded as he sipped his tea wordlessly. He was more relaxed around Jack now, and that was how it was meant to be – after all, the Captain had visited him every other night since Lisa's death four weeks ago.

And still, there was a question that had yet to be answered. Jack had tried posing it several times and had failed each and every one of them, so he was quite sure that it was now or never.

"Are you coming back?" he blurted out and Ianto raised an eyebrow, still completely unperturbed.

"Will you let me come back?" He sounded mildly surprised at the thought. "I thought you were going to kill me."

From all the things Ianto had ever said to him – and they'd exchanged quite a few surprises in the three months since they'd started working together – this was probably the one who had to take the first place. "I'm sorry?"

"You know I'm trained for Retcon resistance in London." Ianto was still absolutely calm. "So I'm pretty sure that didn't leave you with a whole lot of possibilities."

"No!" Jack's voice had risen on its own accord and he tried to tone it down. "Christ, Ianto. Why would I come to speak to you for a _month _if I wanted to kill you at the end of it?"

Ianto shrugged "I haven't really thought about it. Why did you keep coming, though?" He asked, eyes narrowed in suspicion all of a sudden.

Jack was speechless for what was, he had to admit, not the first time when it came to Ianto. He didn't really have an answer. Nobody had made him come here and yet, he'd done it, again and again. He had recorded it in the Captain's log. Somehow, it had turned into a part of his daily routine that he'd been looking forward to.

"Oh." Ianto's voice suddenly broke through his thoughts and Jack noticed a new, bitter gleam in his eyes. "I see. And I kept wondering if Owen had given me a diagnose. PTSD I expected, maybe even something worse, but now I get it." Suddenly Ianto smiled, eyes still sparkling in a way that made Jack want to step back. "He's put me on suicide watch!"

"Ianto, it's not like that –"

"Of course. It was the first thing that came to mind, wasn't it? Look after the mad boy with the metal girlfriend and make sure he doesn't kill himself."

"Listen to me!" Jack had finally gathered his wits enough to speak over the other man, even if he kept avoiding eye contact. He shifted in his seat and tried to be as honest as possible. "Owen had nothing to do with this. Whatever happened here... it was my decision. All me, nothing to do with anyone else."

Ianto took a deep breath and hid his face in his hands. Even in his new position, Jack could see that his eyes were shut tightly. "Yes," he whispered at last.

"What?" The Captain asked tentatively. Ianto had the habit of jumping from topic to topic sometimes and right now, anything would be welcome. It wasn't until his next words, though, that Jack realised that he was being _dismissed_.

"Yes. Expect me back at work tomorrow." When there was no response, Ianto opened an eye to look at him. "I'll see you at the crack. You know where the door is."

And that was that.

There was no further acknowledgment that Jack was even in the room, but the Captain leant down anyway and kissed his forehead. The caress was as gentle as possible and he tried to pour everything in it – questions and remorse and pain and betrayal and everything that had happened and had not been said between them out of sheer stubbornness.

Ianto didn't move a muscle and didn't look up and yet, as he made his way down the street minutes later, Jack knew that his peace offering had been accepted.


	2. Chapter Two

**Author's Notes: I'm so sorry for the ridiculous delay on this, but a lot of things got in the way – including the starting of school – so I tried my best now. I hope you like it. **

**Notes: about Jack sleeping as often as he does in my fics, he does sleep in canon; I don't know why so many people think he doesn't. He doesn't **_**dream**_**, but he sleeps. Also, this takes place somewhere mid-season two.**

**Seeing as what the theme of this fic is, this is the second time of Ianto almost-leaving Torchwood and I'd love to know what you think of it, so feedback is greatly appreciated.**

**The text used in the beginning is from T. S. Eliot's **_**The Hollow Men**_**.**

_The eyes are not here__  
><em>_There are no eyes here__  
><em>_In this valley of dying stars__  
><em>_In this hollow valley__  
><em>_This broken jaw of our lost kingdoms_

Jack was at his desk and staring down at the Hub like a hawk, feeling utterly miserable. He wasn't meant to be like that, really – the Doctor was here and that should have automatically made him happy. And it had, at least at first, two weeks ago. 'At first', also known as 'the point before Ianto and the Doctor started getting along'.

He'd thought it would be brilliant if the team could meet the Doctor, and the man had done it immediately after arriving to recharge his ship. Jack had introduced him to everyone and he'd been absolutely enchanted by each of them – and, much to Jack's relief it was reciprocated by everyone.

Except for Ianto. He hadn't been in any way impolite, of course – it wouldn't be Ianto at all if he had – but he hadn't been as friendly and curious as the others and Jack knew full well why – Canary Wharf hadn't happened all that long ago, and the Doctor had been right in the middle of it, so it was clear why the associations would be bad. He'd mostly excused himself with the Archives, but once the Doctor had shown interest in them, there had been nowhere left to run.

And at first, much to Jack's delight, everything was perfect. Ianto seemed to finally find common ground with someone. He didn't really seem to do that with any of his colleagues, not even with Jack, and the Captain had been amased to see him talk much more and with much more enthusiasm than before, his eyes burning with interest and the thirst for knowledge he had so often.

Usually, Jack reflected now, Ianto would be like that with Tosh. She was extremely clever and he liked talking to her, but she was also all about numbers, and that seemed to bore Ianto an awful lot. With the Doctor, he could talk about the stars and, eventually, when he dared to ask, even see them up close.

Right now was one of those moments. The TARDIS rematerialised in the middle of the Hub and everyone crowded around it as the door swung open and Ianto walked out with an enormous grin on his face. Gwen asked him something and he started talking, apparently animated, until she raised her eyebrows at him. Jack could rather sympathise with it; he'd never seen Ianto so interested in anything before. As he kept looking, the young man gestured back to the inside of the TARDIS and, after a moment of consideration, Gwen nodded and Jack read 'tomorrow' on her lips.

Bloody brilliant.

He tried to school his face into a smile when he saw Ianto heading from his office and – while he was quite sure it was more of a grimace – the Captain stood up to welcome him.

"Jack!" There wasn't even a 'hello' this time.

"What was it?" The man in question asked, trying to looks excited. Not that Ianto was fooled. He never was. "Where did he take you this time?"

"The Triangulum Galaxy," Ianto breathed, dropping in the chair on the other side of the desk with a small, manic gleam in his eyes. "I saw it from above. The Doctor said we could visit a planet from it next time, whichever one I choose."

Triangulum. Ha. This was on the other end of Andromeda, just one galaxy away. Was that the best the Doctor could do?

Ianto's expression was suddenly tentative. "Jack, is everything all right?"

"Yes!" Jack exclaimed, perhaps just a bit more loudly than it would be strictly necessary. "Yes, of course. That's amazing, Ianto."

"Are you sure you don't want to come with us tomorrow?"

"Completely," the Captain assured him, hiding his face in his hands. "Too many old wounds. It's just... not a good idea. Things would get ugly."

"Oh." Ianto's face was somewhat crestfallen, but then he smiled again. "Well, if you're sure. I've got work to do; need to classify that leech we found last week. Owen did his thing, but I need to catalogue it." Ianto stood up and headed for the door, but turned in the last moment. "Oh, and by the way, the Doctor wanted to speak to you."

And he left. Jack's head sunk even deeper in his palms. He was quite sure what was coming, he didn't want to hear it and wanted to hear Ianto's eventual reaction to it even less, but there was no escaping it, so he looked up as soon as he heard the door open again.

"Hello!" The Doctor's over cheerful tone of voice was the last thing he needed right now, but Jack tried not to let it show.

"Hello." He offered a weak smile and wondered how long it would take the Doctor to stop beating around the bush and just say what he'd came here for. "Ianto told me you had a great time."

"Yes." The Doctor's smile was even broader now. "He was really obsessed with astronomy as a kid, wasn't he? He knows anything about everything I've shown him so far." He didn't seem to be expecting an answer. "Even Triangulum, and that one hasn't been discovered by humanity yet. He took advantage of Torchwood technology too, I suppose."

"Of course." Sometimes Jack thought that Ianto had signed up for Torchwood London in the first place out of sheer curiosity about the Universe and its habitants rather than because he cared so much about the protection of the planet.

"Aren't you travelling with someone new now?" Jack asked, trying to delay the question. The one they both knew was coming and the one he didn't want to answer. "You mentioned a woman–"

"Donna, yes." The Time Lord smiled at the name alone and Jack was, for once today, happy for him. It was good that he'd found someone good enough (and yes, he did realise that his train of thought had taken a rather bitter direction ever since the talk they'd had when they'd arrived at the end of the Universe). "Home for the holidays. She invited me with her, but–" The Doctor made a small grimace. "You know. Not really a holidays at home person. Anyway!" he clapped his hands and then leaned on the desk on his elbows and the Captain tried to brace himself for the inevitable. "I asked Ianto if he'd like to come with me on a..." he seemed to struggle to find the right word. "...permanent basis," There was a pause on both sides, then he continued, voice quieter than before. "And he said he'd think about it."

Jack took a deep breath and then let it out, trying not to say something he'd regret (too much) later. He closed his eyes, gathered his bearings and the only thing that came out was, "Okay."

The Doctor's eyes were searching his face for a reaction. "I know that he's a valued employee of Torchwood," he started carefully. "And that you're... attached to him, but I think that his potential is wasted here. It's his choice, after all."

"Of course it is," Jack nodded vigorously, even though his body was numb with shock. Of course it was Ianto's choice, but he'd managed to overlook that. He'd thought that the Doctor was coming to ask for a _permission_, and not to state a fact. And of course, because why would Ianto want to stay? Torchwood didn't give anyone anything other than darkness and death. The Doctor could give him the Universe. Of course he'd choose that. He wouldn't even think about it; it had been just Ianto being delicate. "You're right. Just," his voice died and Jack tried to push it back into work. "Get him to visit sometimes, will you?"

"I'm not sure he'll say yes yet," the Doctor reminded, but the Captain just gave him a curt smile.

"He will."

Ianto was fond of him, yes. Maybe he even loved him. But he wouldn't give up the stars for him.

He didn't see either of them for the rest of the day.

**o.O.o**

Jack realised that he'd fallen asleep on the sofa in the Hub instead of his bed when he felt just how curled around itself his body was and he cringed. The alarms were blaring with full force all around him and the Captain blinked a few times, trying to clear his vision. He looked down at his watch; it was six thirty. Nobody in their right mind came to work so early, save for–

"Ianto?" He mumbled, trying to chase the sleep away from his eyes. "What are you doing here?"

Ianto stopped in his tracks. He looked like he did every other morning, suspiciously fresh and awake for this time of the day and eager to start on whatever project he had going on at the moment, but Jack still couldn't figure out why he was here _now_. He was supposed to have left last night. As far as he knew, the Doctor had parked the TARDIS just around the corner and he'd assumed that they had left together.

"I work here." There was amusement in his tone, but his eyes were wide. "Please tell me you've not forgotten me. I can't deal with whatever amnesia you've acquired overnight this early in the morning." When Jack didn't react in any way, Ianto approached him and sat on the edge of the sofa, dropping a quick kiss on his lips. "What is it?"

"I thought," Jack's mouth was dry. "I thought you've went with him. He said that you'd think about it and I assumed–"

Ianto was suddenly very interested in his own shoes. "I didn't." It hadn't been an easy decision, that much was clear. "There were things holding me back."

"Oh." Nobody spoke for several moments, but Jack couldn't quite help himself. "Were those things so important that you could give up the stars for them?"

Ianto took a deep breath, then nodded. "I think so, yes."

"You're an idiot."

"I know."

"Thank you for which."

"You're welcome."

"Is he coming back?" Jack asked. He didn't want to give Ianto second thoughts – or probably have him realise what he'd missed – but he had to ask.

Ianto shook his head. "He left this morning." He leaned in for another kiss, and Jack let him, deciding not to dwell too much on that last statement in favour of showing Ianto just how much the stars _weren't_ worth leaving here.


	3. Chapter Three

**Author's Notes: As you'll probably see, this started as a somewhat light hearted chapter and ended up much longer and more psychological than expected and, if I have to be honest, I took off a large chunk out of it (if someone's curious about that, I'll post it as a one shot at some point) so it could be acceptable without going too far off the topic about leaving Torchwood.**

**General warning: this pretty much focuses on John/Ianto, just for this chapter; sex is implied and discussed and swear words are used in several places. It probably won't be the way you expect it to be (and honestly, the part I took off was much darker and generally angsty, but more on that later), but I figured that most of what we've seen from John so far is acting. Not the basis, of course, but we only see what kind of person he is in the end of **_**Exit Wounds **_**and he was much kinder and gentler than what we've seen previously – possibly because, even in **_**Kiss Kiss Bang Bang**_** he was already under Gray's control. **

**Anyway. On to the chapter. I hope you like it and I'd love to know what you think, because I'm sort of nervous about how it turned out.**

_And I know that getting you alone isn't easy to do_

_With the exception of you I dislike everyone in the room_

_And I know we've got places to go, we've got people to see_

_Think weboth oughta put 'em on hold and I know you agree_

Jack was giving a lecture.

Technically, it was supposed to be a conversation but, since he was the only one talking,, it didn't really count as one. Gwen wasn't even pretending to be listening, her eyes distant and vacant, and it was quite apparent that wherever she was right now, it wasn't here. Ianto seemed to be studiously taking notes but, when John leant close and looked into his clipboard, he realised that he was actually writing down the lyrics of a song and then busying himself with decorating each letter carefully.

The Captain tried to catch his eye and finally, Ianto seemed to notice that he was being watched because he looked up and his lips stretched into a small smile. The pen froze over the paper and the kid leaned on his elbow before sending an inquisitive look in his direction.

John had finished his trip around the planet earlier than he'd expected to and – driven by whatever guilt or other similar sentiment that usually tricked him into such things – had decided to spend some time with Torchwood. Communication was easier now that he wasn't being threatened with being blown up and didn't have to act in front of them. Jack had assured him – politely but firmly, which had been rather uncharacteristic of him – that if he thought he had a chance with him then he was deeply mistaken, and John had accepted it fully – after all, even he knew when he was being told to back off.

Gwen still despised him; that much was clear. He couldn't exactly blame her, either, and she was at least trying to be civil, so the Captain tried to appreciate what he got.

Ianto, though... There was definitely something there. John wasn't sure how to interpret it and had yet to succeed in doing anything about it. Even right now, the young man was being downright confusing and it frustrated him to no end.

He'd been around for the last month and so far, he'd managed to follow Ianto home more times than he'd bothered to count and it had been the thing that had turned him from Eye Candy to Ianto Jones; not just a pretty face but an actual person.

John had an ongoing experiment about that. He'd realised early on that Ianto had a type; he just had to figure it out if he wanted to get the kid to become really interested in him. After all, that was what this was – hunting. And, by the looks of it, Ianto was enjoying it immensely, especially if the smile he was giving John right now was anything to go by. This was a hunt, and the victim was happily biting back.

He was quite sure that whoever Ianto considered to be the epitome of perfection, it had to be someone from a book or a movie (because, if it was something upwards from Jack, they had to be fictional, right?) and had managed to get through the bigger part of Ianto's passions – made difficult by the fact that he had an enormous book– and DVD shelf and turned out to be as much of a bookworm as he could be. He'd even taken to bringing him things from the past and future just to figure it out, and yet the only major thing he'd got out of the way so far was James Bond (Ianto had just scoffed at that and told him, "I want to _be_ James Bond, I don't want to sleep with him!").

"X-Files?" he mouthed now. Ianto looked vaguely disgusted, but his smile didn't even quiver. He _was_ enjoying this.

"Give it up," Ianto mouthed in response and, without taking his eyes away, said out loud, "There's a 4,5% increase in their population since this time last year."

John's brow furrowed in confusion and it took him a moment to realise that he was talking to Jack. He tried not to be impressed but filed away the information anyway. For later use, just in case. Separating his attention between several things would be a useful skill to have for a Time Agent, and they did need new people. Perhaps–

No. Bad idea. John tried to chase it away from his mind and was not entirely successful.

"Never," he said soundlessly and Ianto's eyes started gleaming in that way John had see them do when he was faced with a challenge; the gunmetal blue irises even more striking than usual. They remained like that for almost a minute before Ianto responded.

"Good."

**o.O.o**

"Oh, sweetheart, do the world a favour and never put clothes on again."

As Ianto got out of the bathroom, clearly grateful that he'd bothered to wrap a towel around his waist, he didn't seem even the least bit surprised to see John in his living room. He didn't react in any way, really, so the Captain spent the moment appreciating the sight. Ianto was pale, almost sickly so, but it was fully made up for by the firm, lean muscles that moved under it as Ianto quietly went around rearranging everything that John had moved from its original place.

"What's the silent treatment for, sweetcheeks?" he pressed at the continued lack of acknowledgment. Ianto usually hated the pet names he came up with, but now refused to address even that. "Didn't you miss me?"

"What's to miss?" Ianto asked dryly. "All you do is replace my furniture, eat my food and sleep in my bed."

"I've brought you something," John said hopefully and Ianto grimaced.

"If it's the _Hunger Games _again, then I'm not interested." It seemed to be the truth but, despite his obvious reluctance to give in to the temptation, Ianto turned around and crossed his arms expectantly. It did good things for his biceps and bad things for John's blood pressure but he still managed to show him the DVD box set he'd got his hands on. Ianto sighed – still trying to stifle his curiosity, the Captain noted, rather pleased with himself – and reached for it.

"Sherlock," he read out loud. "Seasons one to five. Really?"

"You've got all the books."

"I like the books, I don't fancy the characters!" Ianto protested. "I told you already, I know you're currently amusing yourself, but I don't have time for this."

"You don't," John conceded, standing up from Ianto's sofa and nearing him to run a finger down his chest. The muscles tensed even further under his touch and Ianto froze, but the caress didn't seem to be unwelcome, so he didn't step back. "But you're enjoying yourself too much to stop."

**o.O.o**

It turned out to be true and only two weeks later, when Ianto had managed to find enough free time for it, John came into his living room and found him sitting on the edge of the sofa, eyes fixed on the screen and biting his tongue – which, the Captain found, Ianto ever did when he was intrigued by something, like a hound studying a new smell.

John hadn't even bothered to watch the thing he'd given the man and was now welcomed by the sight of some guy causing mayhem in London while the police tried to get to him.

"Which one is that?" he asked, sitting next to him, but there was no response. By the time the guy broke into a bank as well, Ianto stifled a laugh and John chanced a look in his direction. He was still tense and on alert, and the Captain had never seen him like that before, save for the moments when they'd been hunting something. There was some unholy glee which hadn't appeared before in his eyes and John raised an eyebrow.

And then realisation hit.

"Fuck me, candy," he mumbled, only to have Ianto send him a stern look.

"We've talked about this, John."

The Captain ignored him. "That's the one, isn't it? I got it right this time."

"No, you didn't," Ianto said but, when John managed to catch his eyes, his pupils were blown to the point where there was only a thin ring of blue around them. "I keep telling you, this is pointless." Bless him, he was getting _flustered_. "I don't know why you think there's–"

"Let's see," John cut him off. He'd finally hit the mark and didn't intend on letting it go any time soon. "Why him? And, if it's him, then why not me?" The Captain stood up and leant over the back of the couch so he could talk right into Ianto's ear. "I think I'm pretty much like him. Don't you? I'm shorter than you and threat people for fun." He gave a small laugh after a pensive pause. "I'm sure I could fake an Irish accent if that's what does it for you."

"Leave me alone, John." Ianto didn't seem inclined to turn around and face him, but his voice was ice cold – and had the same note of something repressed that it gained every time they were talking about anything similar to this. "If you're looking for a shag, Cardiff is out there for you. I don't understand why you keep doing this."

"Nothing out there like the thrill of the chase, gorgeous," John hummed. Ianto didn't turn around, but at least let out the air he'd been holding. "You want this. Me. I just don't understand why you're holding back. That's why I started this; to see what you want. I wanted to figure it out. Figure_ you_ out."

"No one's figured me out yet," Ianto's voice was quiet but rough and that delicious accent was all the more pronounced, and those soft pink lips were open in an invitation he was – for whatever reason – unwilling to voice as he finally faced him. "Why do you think that you will?"

"I don't. I think you're going to let me; I just wanted to prove it to myself. You want someone like this. Like me."

"Jack–"

"–is amazing and beautiful and you love him, yes. But he's scared of you. Yes, he is," he added when Ianto looked ready to object. "Stop kidding yourself. Nobody else sees it – because after all, it's soft-spoken, skinny Ianto Jones who wouldn't say boo to a goose. But he knows you, and it terrifies him." The TV was still on behind them as they spoke and John caught some of it as the same man talked about the control he had over the world. "I could blow someone up for you, if you'd like," he offered.

"Won't be necessary, thank you," Ianto replied stiffly, but didn't look away.

And really, John didn't need to be told twice.

**o.O.o**

John groaned as he felt Ianto's lips against his neck. "Not again," he protested weakly. "I couldn't possibly."

"You don't even have to do anything," Ianto said, voice muffled against his skin. "All you do is just lie there anyway."

"It's not my fault you're a fantastic fuck." John reluctantly opened his eyes and faced Ianto. "Seriously, no chance. Four times in two hours is about as far as I can go. Are you even human?"

The younger man scoffed and rolled off of him to lie down on the ridiculously big four poster bed. John could practically see him mind clearing and braced himself for the incoming guilt trip.

"This is going to end in a spectacular grudge fuck, just so you know." And there it was.

"Don't get all worked up, now," John grimaced. "Give me twenty minutes of rest and I bet I can convince you just how okay this is."

Ianto snorted. "John, the current population of Torchwood is four. When two of them are shagging, the other two know about it. And when one of them is shagging the other two _separately_, things can only go downhill."

"Meaning?"

"Gwen is going to be livid and feed me to the Weevils."

"Because we left her out?"

Ianto took a deep breath and closed his eyes. He did that a lot when he was around him, John realised, and wondered whether he need to be flattered or offended. "No," Ianto said patiently at last. "Because Jack's her friend. And I'm supposed to be dating him, and then this happens, especially considering that he'd probably be able to tell."

"Also she hates me," John supplied helpfully and Ianto nodded with a sigh.

"Also she hates you."

**o.O.o**

Ianto had never been more dismayed to be right. It was less than a week later that Gwen found out and, while she didn't exactly feed him to the Weevils, it didn't make the situation any less painful – or embarrassing.

"You know, Jack is taking this seriously," she hissed once she was sure that the man in question wasn't within earshot. "His relationship with you; he actually takes it seriously. And then you go and do this. With _John_ of all people!" Ianto winced. "What the hell?"

Even though she didn't voice it, the 'how can you live with yourself?' was right there and Ianto looked away again.

He couldn't explain it; not even to himself, but John had been right. There was something about danger that always managed to draw him in and, as much as he didn't want to admit it, the Captain had been spot on about other things as well. Jack was scared of him. He was cared of everything he couldn't control, and Ianto did have a habit of being unpredictable. Jack always tried to change that. John revelled in it.

And there, he supposed, was the source of it all.

"I swear in every god you don't believe in, Ianto Jones, if you betray him again–"

That had been a rather low blow but Ianto tried not to make a fight out of it.

"Don't worry," he cut her off quickly. "I'll take care of it."

**o.O.o**

And he did. Only a week later, when he and John were coming back from a fight with a particularly vicious harpy – Gwen and Jack were on the other end of town fighting its mate –John started speaking to him of the Time Agency.

"They'd love you there," he said as Ianto clicked the safety of his semi-automatic back on. "You'd be good for undercover missions and, hey, we've never had anyone from the twenty-first century."

Ianto didn't say anything. He knew what was being offered to him and wanted to say yes; he wanted it more than anything else. He knew that he'd be an idiot to refuse, just like Jack had told him last time.

"He doesn't even need to know," John said and there was a small smile as Ianto looked at him, shocked. It was as if the Captain had caught his train of thought right before it could derail into Jack territory. "You'll just disappear; no one will ever hear about it."

"Are you leaving soon?" Ianto asked and John threw him a surprised glance. "You wouldn't ask me if you didn't plan on leaving in the immediate future."

"Yes," he said and Ianto stopped in his tracks to turn and face him.

"Why me?" he asked quietly. "You could have asked Jack."

"He'd say no."

"I'll probably do the same."

John sighed. "For Jack, the Time Agency was an attempt to find his brother and little else. It holds no appeal for him."

Ianto laughed softly. "What makes you think I'm the adventurous sort? We are _not _talking about sex," he added hastily when John looked ready to make a rather expected remark. "Just me, in general."

"Because I know you," John said as if it were glaringly obvious. "Come on, candy, Indiana Jones? James Bond? Sherlock Holmes? You _crave _for something like that, and Torchwood was your attempt for it."

"You don't think it worked?"

"Not really. So, yes or no? I've got a schedule, you know."

"You're a time traveller!"

"Details."

Ianto took a deep breath. John was right, of course. Nobody had to know. Both his colleagues would know where he'd gone, yes, but it wouldn't matter to him by then.

Except it would. It would matter too much for him to keep going without his team. Without Jack.

He leant down to give John a kiss, softer than any other they'd shared, and then closed his eyes. "Thank you," he whispered. "But no."

His eyes remained closed as the air crackled and filled with the smell of ozone, and all of a sudden, Ianto's heart felt lighter and heavier than it had been recently, both at the same time and, with another glance to assure himself that no one had seen the teleport, he started walking on his way back to the Hub.

John had been right. Jack would never need to know.


	4. Chapter Four

**Author's Notes: Once again, a somewhat easy on the eye and kind of fluffy chapter (I'm saying kind of because I can't write fluff to save my life) and yet just a tad intense to write, especially towards the end. It also came out as a long chapter as well, and I think the next one will be quite long too. I certainly don't complain; I'm hoping that you wouldn't too.**

**References: The text in the beginning is from **_**Preludes**_** by T. S. Eliot. Jack calling Ianto a nerd is from one of the books – Consequences, most specifically (and the exact quote is:**

_**Ianto: I was always good with books. I was on the Gold colour reading scheme long before the other kids.**_

_**Jack: Oh, I bet you were popular. You... nerd.") **_**and I decided to give a bit of a wink to that.**

**Carlie Roberts, the marine geologist is a Torchwood One employee that had a major role in one of the audio dramas – **_**Submission**_** – and also happened to be in love with Ianto, but that's another story for another day.**

**So... enjoy and let me know what you think!**

_I am moved by fancies that are curled__  
><em>_Around these images, and cling:__  
><em>_The notion of some infinitely gentle__  
><em>_Infinitely suffering thing_

Few things were as good as waking up in an actual bed instead of the cot in his bunker, and one of them was waking up on said bed next to Ianto. His bedroom was just like the rest of the flat – big and full of expensive and, as far as Jack could tell, authentic furniture that made him feel like he was in a mansion in the nineteenth century and not in an apartment in the middle of present day Cardiff. The bed was heaven, though, so he didn't tend to complain.

He quickly registered what had woke him up – he'd wrapped his arms tightly around Ianto and his lover couldn't get to his phone even as he reached as far as he could.

Which happened to be ringing. Jack winced at the sheer volume of it and reluctantly loosened his grip on Ianto without opening his eyes; anything to get the sound to stop. Seconds later, the ringing ceased and there was a sleepy, "Hello?" A pause. "Yeah. I mean, yes. Years ago." Another pause, this time lengthier, and Jack could almost feel Ianto's confusion as well as his unwillingness to keep up the conversation. "No. Not since then. No. Yes, I'm sure." There was an edge to his voice that was usually reserved only for the most disagreeable of people. "Dare I ask why you would want something like that?" This time the pause was shorter and Ianto sounded rather nervous when he spoke again. "Of course not. I'm sorry, sir. Goodbye."

Jack sat up in the bed and reached for Ianto just as his lover dropped his phone on the nightstand.

"Sir?" He murmured, wrapping his arms around Ianto's waist and nuzzling into his neck, eliciting a breathy chuckle from his lover. "And I was starting to feel special for the title."

Ianto snuggled closer into his embrace and dropped his head on Jack's shoulder, and that was enough to bring a smile on the Captain's face. Snuggling wasn't something Ianto did normally – it was undignified, he always said, and he didn't really see the point of it – but if he did do it, that meant that he was in a good mood and – quite probably – still half asleep. "Government officials," he said as if it was supposed to explain everything and Jack pressed him even closer to himself. Ianto was just as cold as usual, but the lack of warmth was worth it for the rare pleasure of _not _stumbling out of bed and hastily getting ready for work.

"What do government officials want from you at this time of the day?"

Ianto shrugged. "Carter Smith. An old colleague of mine, from Torchwood One. Apparently he's being problematic and they're calling all the survivors to check for him."

"They?"

"MI5."

Jack groaned. "Why do your friends always turn out to be maniacs? I have yet to meet one – including yourself – who hasn't got in trouble with the police. You're a dangerous man to be around."

Ianto snickered. "Look who's talking." He turned around in Jack's arms so he could kiss him and push him back down into a lying position. "We have to get to work," he mumbled, even as his fingers kneaded at Jack's shoulders. The Captain shook his head.

"Not today. Gwen banned us from the Hub, remember?" It had been a long speech about the two of them finally getting a day off and she'd promised to call them if there was an emergency. Jack didn't even want to think what the two of them looked like to make her quite literally throw them out, but it was true that they had been preoccupied with the extra work lately.

"We could sneak in," Ianto suggested and Jack smiled. Even if he occasionally moaned about it, his archivist adored his job and usually had to be dragged out of the Hub forcibly in the wee hours at night.

"No twenty-four-year-old in their right mind is as much of a workaholic as you are," Jack said and Ianto scoffed. "You're not crawling back underground today. I've got plans for you." Ianto only had a second to frown at him before Jack made to get up and make his way out of the room. "And you better ditch the suit," he called over his shoulder. "I can't promise you that it won't get dirty."

**o.O.o**

And that was how they found themselves in the Central Station, with Ianto scowling at everything around them and occasionally at Jack as well.

"Out of coffee," he huffed as he took a sip from his double hot chocolate. "What kind of a coffee machine is _out of coffee?_"

"It would have been the third one this morning anyway," Jack offered as a consolation. "It's not good for you."

"Like hell it's not," Ianto snapped. "My blood pressure is always low anyway. And I'm cold."

The first bit was the truth – Jack knew as much from Ianto's medical records and that was probably the only reason why his body would take in as much caffeine daily as it did. The second part, though, was completely Ianto's fault.

He was wearing a pair of old, well-worn combat boots and had stuffed his dark skin tight jeans in them. His black dress shirt looked like satin – something he didn't generally wear with his suits – and he'd paired it with a leather jacket that reached mid-thigh. It was the middle of December.

"What happened to that coat of yours?" Jack asked. "The new one. Blue-whatever-it-was."

"The Burberry one? It wouldn't go with the jeans, and you said no suits. Where the hell are we going, anyway? Have you even got tickets?"

"Of course." He'd arranged them the moment they had decided on the day off. "Our train departs in half an hour."

They were still in the cafeteria, which meant the schedule tables were out of sight. Good, he thought. He wanted to keep it a surprise for a while longer.

**o.O.o**

"You have _got_ to be joking," Ianto protested as they made their way to their seats. "Jack, what would possess you to think that I want to ever go near that place again?"

"Replace the bad memories with the good," Jack said for the thousandth time. "Besides, have you ever gone sightseeing?"

"Jack, I've lived in London for three years!" Ianto groaned as he sat down opposite of the Captain and crossed his arms. "It's crowded and dirty and there's nothing to see there!"

"You just haven't looked is all," Jack assured and leant in, placing a hand on Ianto's knee. "Come on, let's give it a try. The world won't end if we make a trip outside of town."

"It just might, you know," Ianto said grimly. "Christmas is coming and you know what London is like at this time of the year."

"Most people get away with it without dying."

"Yes," Ianto admitted. "But we're not most people." When Jack just raised an eyebrow, Ianto continued. "Couples do that, Jack. Romantic trips to London and sightseeing are usually the kind of thing that–"

"Oh." Jack looked away from him and Ianto immediately realised what his mistake had been. "London's not the problem, then. It's me."

"That's not what I meant." Ianto could see the argument coming and tried to stop it in its wake, but it was too late. He'd been the one to plant the seed.

"You miss her, don't you?" Jack suddenly looked up and stared him dead in the eye. "London is Lisa's space, and I'm invading it."

"You're not invading anything!" Sometimes Ianto wished he hadn't been given the gift of speech at all. He always managed to say just the thing that would screw everything up. "It's just– it's been a bad place for years. My nightmares all take place in London, because that's there it all happened and–"

"You're afraid to be happy there now," Jack finished for him, understanding dawning in his eyes. "You think it'll manage to spoil it. Ianto, if you give me the chance, I promise I can make it beautiful again." He smiled and Ianto tried to return it, not entirely successfully. "I can make it magnificent. Just let me try."

Ianto was torn between saying that yes, he'd very much like getting off the damn train right now and going home, and actually giving this a chance and then, finally, nodded slowly.

"Okay," he said quietly. "Okay, good. Sightseeing. Let's try."

It was worth it for the way Jack's face lit up and the Captain brought him closer for a kiss just a second later, much to Ianto's dismay.

"People are staring," he mumbled against Jack's lips and felt his lover smile into the kiss.

"Let them." Bloody typical, Ianto thought as Jack doubled his enthusiasm and, despite the slight embarrassment, the younger man didn't break away.

**o.O.o**

Despite all the protests that there was nothing to see in London, Jack was happy to see that Ianto's enthusiasm had flared up once they were off the train. Jack hadn't visited the city in years – not counting the time when he'd picked up the remnants of Torchwood One after the battle nearly two years ago – so it was as good as new and Ianto turned out to be a pretty good guide. Big Ben, the Warner Bros studios (a rather short visit that was accompanied by Jack groaning and calling Ianto a nerd, which had got the man to be overwhelmed by some incredibly endearing combination of indignation and ashamed acceptance), the Parliament (Ianto had lingered there for an inexplicably long time before Jack had managed to drag him away), and a million other things before they finally got to the London Eye.

Ianto had turned out to be right – the people around them were either families or couples as they got in their cabin and Ianto told him the story of the Eye. Jack couldn't help but smile at the lively, bright creature that usually took over his lover whenever he talked about something he cared about, even if it was something completely mundane – like a Ferris wheel – and he brought the younger man even closer in the confined space so he could press a kiss against his cheek.

And the fact that Ianto just smiled bashfully at him without checking for the reaction of the people around them was the biggest reward of the day.

**o.O.o**

The way Jack had planned it, they had to be back in Cardiff late this evening, which meant that they had plenty of time to spend – and, when it was all said and done, London didn't have all that much unique sightings and that was how they found themselves in Hyde Park, Ianto telling Jack stories of the office parties they'd had at One. It was a step in the right direction, the Captain thought, that Ianto could speak of the friends of his past life without breaking down.

"...and then Carlie – you know her, UNIT geologist Carlie – told us that we had to all go and tell Yvonne what we've done. How would that have sounded? 'I'm sorry we set the whole B section on fire, Ma'am, it won't happen again'?"

Jack laughed softly. Ianto had been rather weird lately and the change was more than welcome. "So what did you do?"

Ianto's face fell. "Nothing. HR found us out and someone told Yvonne. I was her personal assistant and I was banned out of my own office for a week, and Carlie wasn't allowed to set foot into the laboratories. All in all, it could have ended worse."

Jack had met Carlie Roberts several months back on a submarine in Japan. Ianto had called her and she'd nearly died and, as far as he knew, she worked for UNIT now, and he could imagine her very clearly in the light Ianto had put her in. She's been his best friend – probably still was, actually, even if Ianto hadn't talked to her in months – and that brought Jack to a new revelation.

"So you've had good times here, too," he said and Ianto turned to him, apparently surprised by the change of the topic. "In One. You've had friends and office parties and– there were times when it's all been okay."

Ianto didn't say anything for a few moments and Jack wondered if he'd pushed the topic too far. The last thing he needed now was the man dwelling into thoughts about tragedies long passed, especially when he'd been trying to make the day special and do the whole 'replacing the memories' ceremony. "Yes," he said at last, as if he was only realising it now as well. "Yes, you're right. I did. It had its bad sides, of course, but otherwise? It was pretty good, yeah." Jack just smiled and laced their fingers together. "And, Jack?" He looked up at Ianto to see that he was smiling too; a rather strange look in his eyes. "Thank you."

"What for?"

Ianto gripped his hand even tighter and raised the fingers of his free one for a gentle caress over Jack's cheek. "Just– thank you."

_Several hours earlier_

Ianto groaned when the shrill ringing of his phone pierced through his brain. He reached for it, but it was too far away and he tried to wriggle away from the death grip Jack held on him. When he finally got it, he frowned against the screen. Blocked number. What the–

"Hello?"

"Hello." The voice was familiar, but Ianto's sleep-heavy brain couldn't force itself to place it. "I'm calling on behalf of the Director of the Security Services. Am I speaking to Ianto Jones?"

"Yeah." Ianto remembered who he was talking to. "I mean, yes."

"And you worked for Torchwood One? Junior researcher and, on a later date, a personal assistant to Mrs Hartman?"

"Years ago," Ianto replied, confused. MI5? Why would they contact him, especially at seven on a bloody Saturday morning?

"And you haven't come in contact with any of the survivors?" Jesus, who did this guy think he was?

"No. Not since then." It wasn't exactly the truth, but Ianto didn't want to involve the several people he'd been talking to in whatever it was that MI5 wanted from him.

There was a heavy sigh on the other end of the line.

"We've been looking for former Torchwood employees as a recommendation from UNIT and wondered if you'd like to come for an interview. We're looking for recruits."

"No," Ianto cut him off immediately. It wasn't the first time he'd been offered the chance to leave Torchwood for something bigger, but this time, he didn't even have to think about it. All he had to do was feel the way Jack was holding on to him, still mostly asleep, and he knew that it wouldn't be worth it. Nothing would be worth missing _this _for.

"Are you completely sure that–"

"Yes, I'm sure," Ianto snapped. "Dare I ask why you would want something like that?"

Because really, former Torchwood employees? Who would want that in a secret organisation? The fact that he was having this conversation was enough to show just how secret Torchwood could be.

Now there was an edge to the man's voice as well. "I'm sure you realise that I can't tell you that, Mr Jones."

"Of course not," Ianto said, trying to sound as humble as possible. "I'm sorry, sir. Goodbye."

He felt Jack's arms encircling him like they had while they'd both been still asleep and smiled to himself as Jack posed enquiries for information on his phone call. He knew what his lover would tell him if he were to tell him the truth. It would hurt him, but he'd encourage Ianto to go anyway. He'd always told him that the job he did in Torchwood wasn't all that good, that he could do much better than that, and would have told him to go for it. That he could be big in the Special Services instead of being where he was now – wasting his life (which was most likely going to be a very short one) in Torchwood Cardiff.

So he lied. It wasn't like he wasn't used to it anyway; he tried to stick to the truth when he could but the actual truth was, he lied more often that he'd ever cared to admit. He lied to spare himself or others the pain; he lied to save or destroy people's lives and so he lied now as well. He lied to spare the heartbreak of whom he loved most in the world as he sunk back into Jack's warm embrace and closed his eyes, allowing himself to forget about the world once more.


	5. Chapter Five

**Author's Notes: And we got to the last chapter. Ah, how time flies. I hope you like ending of this one; I tried to get it to be satisfactory despite the prompt, and I like to think that I succeeded. It turned out a bit of hurt-comfort situation with angst and fluff on the side, so I'd like to know what you think of it.**

**The main plot of this one is based on this: mclachland, livejournal, com/9522,html (just replace the comas with dots) but apparently, it has a different twist. The songs used are **_**Precious**_** by Depeche Mode and **_**Enjoy the Silence**_**, also by them. I kind of like the contrast and they seemed fitting. **

**Anyway. I hope you enjoy this chapter and, as usual, feedback is appreciated.**

_Things get damaged, things get broken_

_I thought we'd manage, but words left unspoken_

_Left us so brittle, there was so little left to give_

Jack had been doing this – this polite battle of wills via e-mail – for months now. He'd declined the offer again and again, only to have Lieutenant general Sousa pose the question once more, and here it was yet again.

_Captain Harkness,_

_Despite your assurances, I feel that Mr Jones would have a much better field for his talents in UNIT. The work of a general administrator is light years behind from what he could offer him here, and I think that_

Jack closed the message without even reaching the end of it. There would be no point anyway. It wasn't like she hadn't written basically the same thing and he'd answered her in the same way time and time again; he knew the whole thing by heart. Wasted talent, blah blah blah, United Front Campaign, blah blah blah, deeply impressed by his cooperation, a place in UNIT. The key words were always the same. The key word of most of Jack's responses was 'no'.

Ianto had managed most of the organisation during Jack's absence, even if Gwen had commanded the missions, and the so-called United Front Campaign (a union consisting of the UNIT branches in London and Manhattan, Torchwood Two and Three all combining forces against a Cybermen attack) had been Ianto's idea. He'd dealt with most of it and Jack had seen videos from the whole thing and had read UNIT's reports on the case. Ianto had been brilliant, that much was true. Unfortunately, UNIT meant a lot of things, but a long and happy life wasn't one of them. And yes, Jack was fully aware that the same went for Torchwood, but at least the Captain had the comfort that Ianto would be close here. If he was here, there would be something Jack could do to protect him. In UNIT, he'd be out of Torchwood's jurisdiction.

Out of Jack's reach.

And while he'd have let him go (albeit with some difficulty) when the Doctor had asked, so much time had passed since then that he was quite sure he wasn't capable of letting a similar thing happen now.

**o.O.o**

It was almost a month later that Jack came into his office to find a post-it note stuck on the hanger. Ianto tended to stick them everywhere and somehow always sensed when Jack was looking for him. He was always very curt in those notes, and now was no exception.

_UNIT called. Don't know what they want. Currently checking._

Oh, God.

Seconds later, Jack's Manipulator let out a short beep – Ianto had figured out a way to send instant messages to it – and Jack quickly opened it.

_What does the head of UNIT want from you? – IJ_

_Where are you?_ Jack wrote as fast as he could as he descended the stairs from his office.

_Archives, my office. – IJ_

The signature was usually a way from Ianto to signal that the message was over. Jack wanted to tell him not to open anything, but he wouldn't be able to justify it. After all, usually he was the one who almost begged Ianto to deal with the contacts with the outside world and he was also quite sure that he was too later. Ianto was a fast reader; God only knew how much he'd gone through by now.

Ianto had made himself an office within the bowels of the Hub, just at the beginning of the Archives. No one else dared to go down there (afraid that they'd get lost, Jack always supposed) and therefore there's been no one to stop him and he'd made himself at home.

Usually, it was a place Jack liked – there was a computer, several bookshelves, a desk and a chair. The light was dim, but Ianto still preferred to do his personal projects down here and jack had never minded (save for the several times he'd told his lover that he'd damage his eyes if he kept doing that). Now, though, he dreaded going in.

When he finally opened the door tentatively, Jack saw Ianto leaning on the table with his elbows, his hands hiding his face. It reminded him of a moment long ago; of being afraid that this would be the last time he was seeing Ianto. It wasn't even a déjà vu; it was replaying the same scene with the only difference in the fact that this time, Ianto wasn't guilty of anything.

"Hello," Jack said quietly. Ianto didn't move and the Captain carefully sat on the other chair in the room. There were only two of them so he couldn't get lost.

"I'd ask how long this has been going on for," Ianto started, taking his hands off his face. Suddenly, he looked tired. So very tired. "but it's all here. Dates and everything; even the time it was opened. And they were opened, weren't they, Jack? Each and every e-mail since February. Last February, which makes this going on for just over a year."

"Ianto, I'm so sorry–"

"No, you're not," Ianto cut him off. "You're not. If you were, you would have told me. This information is _over a year old_, Jack! And I don't know how you've managed to hide it, but–" Suddenly, the anger seemed to wither away and sheer lack of understanding settled in. "I just don't get it," he whispered. "Why? Why would you hide something like that from me?"

Jack hadn't expected the question and really, could he be blamed? He'd expected a lot of things – Ianto being furious and disappointed and whatnot, but he hadn't expected a _why_.

"I thought that this part was fairly obvious," Jack's voice was soft – he was quite sure that Ianto was just trying to get him to say it out loud – but the man just frowned at him and he sighed. "Ianto, UNIT is an organisation that manages to be both merciless and unscrupulous while creating technology that's ten times more dangerous than what we have on site here. Also, Torchwood is an alien-fighting institute. UNIT is the army, and it occasionally deals with aliens as well."

"And what you're trying to say is?"

"I didn't tell you because it's dangerous and tempting – and that's a really bad combination when it comes to you – and because I'm going to miss you."

Ianto's expression was unreadable. "You assumed that I'll agree, then? You still do."

"I know you will," Jack said quietly. "Especially since you've learnt about it like this. You don't have anything to stay here for."

Ianto smiled, but it didn't quite make it to his eyes. "Oh, I think I do."

Jack leant closer to him over the table. "But you're going to leave anyway."

"I probably will, yes."

And at this point, Jack knew that the fight was lost.

**o.O.o**

The airport was crowded and yet they managed to get a bit of peace and quiet – after all, it would be a private flight, and Martha was waiting for them.

"I see you're already dressed," she said by a way of greeting. "Which is just as well because they want you to start immediately."

Ianto raised an eyebrow. "No interview?"

Martha shook her head, slightly apologetic. "They've been monitoring you for the past year and a half."

Ianto took a deep breath and Jack could see the conflict in his lover's eyes seconds before he managed to school his features and respond, "Right. Okay." He looked at the soldiers standing on both sides of the entrance and then back at Gwen and Jack. "Would you mind if I–"

"No, of course not!" Martha motioned for them to step back. "You've got five minutes."

Ianto turned to Gwen first and stepped away along with her. Jack couldn't hear what they were saying but it didn't matter – he was trying to brace himself for what was coming anyway.

"Jack," Ianto started and the Captain turned around to face him. "I– I'm just–" He seemed ridiculously small all of a sudden, fiddling with a thread of his uniform – and jack had been right in his assumption before, it_ did_ suit him perfectly – and looking down. "I have absolutely no idea what to say."

"You don't need to say anything," Jack assured. He needed to say what he held in, though, so he went for it. "I'll miss you."

"Me too," Ianto managed, his voice strangely rough. He'd been avoiding his gaze but now looked up and his eyes were suspiciously red. "I'm sorry. I just want to try. You know, figure out what would feel right."

"Yeah." He didn't quite understand, actually, but there was no use of saying so now. Ianto was like that by nature – he'd always enjoyed a challenge, no matter what it was about. He wouldn't let himself miss an opportunity like that. "Well, good luck." He tried to swallow back anything unnecessary or inappropriate (or, actually, anything that would make this harder for both of them) but didn't quite manage to hold back the slight hitch in his breathing. There was something at his throat that prevented everything else from functioning right. "I hope you find what you're looking for."

Ianto smiled – it seemed to be quite a difficult task – and then gave a salute. "Until the next time, Captain."

"Until the next time, Ianto Jones," Jack echoed quietly as Ianto turned to face Martha and followed her into the plane without looking back.

_All I ever wanted, all I ever needed_

_Is here, in my arms_

_Words are very unnecessary_

_They can only do harm_

A week later found Jack pacing around the Hub and talking on the phone – or, actually, trying to get in contact with someone even half reliable who could give him recommendations for people he could hire. He wasn't used to this – Ianto was usually the one dealing with the communications (and, ironically, he'd just been turned into the brand new Director of Logistics and Communications, which Jack would have found amusing if he wasn't as angry as he was) – and couldn't figure out how to contact the right people and who the right people actually were.

He'd got the first report about Ianto just yesterday. Martha had written it as a personal favour (and half in secret, seeing that her employers didn't fancy giving any sorts of explanations to Torchwood) and he seemed to be having a good time. He was back in London, in their headquarters, and jack had even seen a photo of Ianto in his new office, smiling with the portraits of his predecessors behind him, all of which seemed to be at least twenty years older than him. He'd looked happy – or, well, displayed as much happiness as Ianto would ever allow himself to show to the outside world. Jack had tried to feel good for him, and had failed miserably.

He ended the call before it had even begun – he'd still been waiting for someone, anyone at all, to pick up the damn phone – and slammed the device down on one of the empty desks, knowing full well that it wasn't to blame for his misery, and yet unable to take it out on anything else.

"Jack?" Gwen spoke tentatively and he turned to look at her. "There's something weird happening here." She pointed at her screen and Jack, immensely grateful for the distraction, hurried to join her.

"Define weird."

"The 'possibly troublesome but also possibly a good sign' kind of weird. Look." A photo pulled up on the screen; a half-finished building on a main street that seemed somewhat familiar. "That's in the city centre; you need a permission from the mayor to build anything there because it's not anyone's personal property and they've been building it for a week. Currently it's already up to the fourth floor."

"What's it got to do with us?" Jack asked, confused. It was a rather quickly-appearing construction, but it wasn't all that remarkable.

"It looks normal," Gwen agreed, "until you look at the building permission. And then, there it is. UNIT all over the place."

She wasn't exaggerating. The organisation's signature was everywhere. Jack narrowed his eyes.

"What are they _doing_ here?" he muttered, scrolling down through the documents. "I don't want them in my city."

"We can't stop them," Gwen said softly. "We could go check it out, though?"

Jack stared at the screen for a while longer before shaking his head. "Not yet," he decided at last, chewing on his lip as he made plans for the upcoming confrontation that was sure to follow. "We won't find anything but workers if we go now. Give it a week or two so it'll be ready and then we can go and see the finished thing."

It took UNIT just over two weeks to finish the building – and Jack couldn't even imagine how many people they'd hired to be able to make it, considering that it was at least thirty floors tall – and he and Gwen headed for the place as soon as they could.

It was a busy spot right now; that much was visible. People were coming in and out of the building all the time, all of them dressed in the standard UNIT uniforms and bringing in all sorts of things into what seemed to be the Cardiff branch of the organisation.

"Hey!" Jack called to a soldier nearby. The man turned to him and seemed ready to reject any kind of contact before they pulled out their Torchwood IDs. "Captain Jack Harkness. What exactly is happening here?"

It was apparent that he still wasn't inclined to give any information despite recognising a rank higher than his own, but another soldier joined them – a woman this time, about Ianto's age (and he really had to stop making comparisons everywhere; it certainly wasn't the easiest way to deal with the situation).

"Captain's orders," she said. "Directly from London; he said that it was good to have your eyes and ears everywhere so... here we are now. At least three hundred people were moved here."

"He?" Jack asked, surprised. Last he'd heard, there had been a woman in charge of the London headquarters.

The man scoffed. "'Captain', like hell. He's barely out of high school."

"He's doing great so far, Jim," the young woman insisted and Jack got the impression that it wasn't the first time they were having this conversation. "And I think he did an amazing job with– Captain Jones!"

They both swirled around and saluted – the man with significantly less enthusiasm – and Jack looked up to see the man they'd just discussed.

And just kept on looking.

Ianto cleared his throat delicately. "Surprise?"

Their eyes locked and Jack could barely register Gwen's started gasp as realisation hit her too; everything he could see was the look Ianto sent his way – tentative and asking and unsure – before his body managed to unfreeze itself and he was plastered against UNIT's newest Captain in the matter of seconds and he was pressing butterfly kisses to each part of Ianto's face he could managed while the younger man laughed heartily.

"I hate you," jack breathed out when Ianto caught his lips in a brief but affectionate kiss. "You have no idea how much I hate you." There was too much frantic emotion into the words for them to be true, though; ad Ianto quickly caught the meaning behind them.

"The feeling," he said as they broke apart, "is most definitely reciprocated."

Jack pulled back to take a good look at his lover. He was dressed just like the last time when they'd seen each other, almost a month ago now, and there was a small tag with his rank attached to the front of his uniform on his chest.

"Lieutenant general Sousa thought that the United Front Campaign could be useful at all times – even in times of peace – and I wholeheartedly agreed. Also... well, it was about time UNIT got a place in Cardiff as well."

"Let me get this straight," Jack said slowly, disbelief still reigning over his whole being. "You created an entirely new branch of an international secret organisation because you were homesick?"

Ianto pretended to think about it for a moment or two and then clicked his tongue. "Not exactly. I created an entirely new branch of an international secret organisation because I missed you."

Jack couldn't prevent the smile from appearing once more even if he'd tried – and he didn't feel like he'd have a reason to stop smiling any time soon. "You charming bastard."

"That's the one," Ianto said with a small half-laugh and looked away. "All yours. If you'd take me back, of course."

Jack just shook his head in disbelief and brought him closer again, this time for a hug. "Welcome home, Captain."

And as he said it, he knew that it applied to him just as much.


End file.
